


Witch of Blood

by Signourney



Category: Winx Club
Genre: Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:32:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signourney/pseuds/Signourney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was then that the blanket moved. Blankets don't move. Do they? - When a specialist goes into the woods surrounding Cloud Tower, he comes across more than he bargained for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witch of Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to thank my lovely beta, Mirage-05 from Deviantart, for reading over my work and grabbing out all those grammar mistakes.

Amidst the roof of leaves in the forest, the full moon was seen in glimpses. A light in the darkness of night and the even furthering darkness of the forest surrounding Cloud Tower. The moon was often seen to have special , maybe even magical qualities, with its different phases and the lunar cycle. It had an effect on people, fairies…witches.

The specialist currently stomping through the woods however was not looking up to see the full moon or to think about its special qualities. He was muttering about his fellow specialists who had deserted him without his windrider. They had gone on about him being an angry drunk and that they didn't want him to drive into a tree. So now he was stuck walking from Cloud Tower to Red Fountain through the forest.

He was not drunk! Maybe a little tipsy, he would give them that. Drunk no, he thought as he tripped over his own feet. He fell face first into a bush. The small twigs and sharp leaves pressed into his face and neck. As he pulled out the twigs, they left scratches and cuts on his face.

"Ugh." As he stood up right again, he felt dizzy. And sleepy. He rubbed at his left eye and picked a leaf from his face. That there were many more leaves in his now very messy hair, did not occur to him.

He continued on his way. Yes, not drunk at all.

"You knooow." He slurred. "When Iiiia git to Wed Funtaan I will fiind me frends and you knoooow…smash them. Yeah." He nodded, shaking his fist. Because that made so much sense.

Slowly he continued on his way on the small road that led through the forest, dragging his feet through the dirt. He was beginning to get very tired. He tripped again, this time over a branch. He caught himself with his arms so his face would not end up in the dirt road.

A soft sigh left his lips before dropping himself gently to the ground. He rolled over then and the tiredness was becoming overwhelming. His eye lids felt so heavy.

With drowsy eyes he glanced to his right side. Through his thick eyelashes he saw a fabric in the grass. A lump of fabric. A blanket. Slowly he rolled over the fabric. His 'tipsy' and tired mind thinking this blanket would be perfect to take a snooze under.

He grabbed the fabric but it would hardly budge his way. "Blankyy." He whined as he tugged again. It felt so soft.

It was then that the blanket moved. Blankets don't move. Do they?

The blanket moved again and a face appeared from below the fabric. Too late his mind registered that this fabric was not a blanket but a big cloak that someone was wearing. He still tugged it again.

Big blood red, almost dead eyes looked at him. Long and straight orange hair coming out of the cloak and spilling over her shoulders.

He squinted at her. "Hi." He said simply.

She blinked and looked at him, moving to lean on her hands. His 'tipsy' mind imagined her to be staring deeply into his own eyes, because he was quite the catch. And the girl was a beauty. Even his intoxicated mind saw that.

But she wasn't. She was looking at his face, specifically the cuts that were there and the blood that was beginning to dry up.

She crawled closer to him, her eyes never leaving the cuts, the blood. Something was drawing her in to go closer to him, ignoring the weakness she felt in her limbs and the trembling. Her heart was beginning to pound faster. Harder. Her mouth went dry. The cold that had settled into her body long before this specialist has come along, pulled in further. The goose bumps on her skin became more insistent.

The specialist's eyes grew large. He still hadn't let go of her coat and he was clenching it now. All his 'tipsy' mind thought was that the beauty was coming closer and closer and closer. He didn't see how dark her red eyes were getting, how pale and unhealthy her skin looked or how chapped and pale her lips were.

She settled in front of him. Slowly she reached out to touch his face. As a finger touched his skin, a shiver ran through him. Her finger was so cold. She touched some of the half-dried up blood and then held her finger in front of her. Slowly, almost as if she was afraid to, she licked the small bit of blood off her finger.

Oh. Wow. It was…good. It was what she needed. No, craved. Even though she had only licked a tiny bit of blood, she could feel a small portion of her strength returning. She needed more. Much more.

The look in her eyes changed. Intent. Hungry. Alive.

The specialist barely had the chance to notice this, not as if his intoxicated mind would have noticed anyway, as she pounced on him in her eagerness. In a reflex he blocked her first attempt at clawing at his face while finally letting go of her cloak. Her second attempt to attack him and to grab his knife however, happened too quickly. She was holding it already. Blood dripped from her fingers.

"Wha-" He muttered.

A sly smile spread on her face as she licked her fingers. She could feel that despite his fighting instinct, he was too intoxicated to put up a real fight against her. He was too slow. He could not predict her movements.

And she was feeling stronger just thinking about what she was going to get out of this. The copper smell. The metallic taste. But he was not going to go easily and she could not handle a long fight. For that she needed more blood.

Softly she muttered the words of a small sleeping curse. He could feel he was becoming more drowsy again. His eyelids slowly sliding down, his limbs feeling heavy. Maybe if he had not been intoxicated he would have been able to fight the sleeping spell longer, but his body had already screamed for sleep before he even met her. There was no battle. His eyes finally closed and he dropped on the ground. The specialist was asleep.

She crouched next to him. Slowly she unbuttoned his shirt. The knife she had taken from him earlier, had a reason. She didn't need to feel to know where his blood vessels were. Most were situated on the side of the troth, sometimes placed more towards the neck. She didn't have to search out the exact position because she could feel his blood flowing.

She made an incision in his neck. Blood started seeping from the wound.

Hungrily she placed her mouth over the wound and started sucking out more blood. First slowly but as the blood entered her system, she had little self-restraint. She began to suck faster and harder. Feeling her body beginning to rejuvenate . Her cheek slowly began to tint rosy. Her eyes slowly turned from red back to its normal dark brown. The strength in her muscles began to return. And her black magic began to course through her body once more.

Finally she pulled away from the body and stood up. She wiped her mouth clean of the blood with the back of her hand and licked it up. Why waste good blood? She looked down on the specialist. He was still alive, barely though. Yes, why waste good blood… ?

She wasn't able to do this before as her magic powers had been seeped from her. But now… She held her hand above his body. Closing her eyes, she muttered: "Blood come to me. Sanguine Draine."

Through various parts of his body the blood pushed through the skin, out of his body. Together it formed one ball, levitating in the air. Next to her one large bottle appeared with various markings on it. It was hard to see the markings properly in the dark. A line of blood came from the ball and slowly went into the bottle until there was nothing left. Then the bottle minimized, not much larger then a human hand and she picked it from the air Oh how she loved spells. So easy to keep left over blood.

She pushed back her cloak a little and hung the bottle on her belt. Now that cloak was pushed back momentarily it revealed she wore a dress and knee-high boots.

Now it was time to head on. To find some tasty witch or maybe even a tasty fairy. Magic blood to strengthen her magic further. Normal blood could only do so much. She needed to regain her full strength back. Before that old tart that her fallen from the sky. She needed it back for her revenge.

Now Headmistress Griffin, payback will be a bitch.


End file.
